Page 71 of We Three Kings
Balthazar shifts in his seat as uncomfortable as I am. I know he wants to strip her and fuck her too.
My cock is swelling in my pants for my little one. “But you’re the only girl he’s ever brought home, and I definitely think that’s a good thing.”
A raging blush blooms on her cheeks, and I get a timid nod before she focuses on her slight hand engulfed by my son’s on her lap.
Mary returns, beelining straight to Seraphina. “Here you are Miss Snow.”
With trembling hands, she accepts the glass. “Thank you very much.”
“You’re welcome.”
The smile on the housekeeper’s face remains as she swivels to me. I can tell she approves of our girl too. “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Seraphina takes a long drink—too long in my opinion. She’s still nervous, and I don’t like her anxiety. Balthazar doesn’t either. He wraps his arm around her, tucking her close, and kisses her temple.
Rather than jealous, I feel relief he’s able to relax her. If he didn’t, I would.
Luckily, it hasn’t come to that since I don’t want to steal her. I just want to share her.
Share.
Something we’ve done a few times before. But not like this. Not with a woman like her.
The past has been fun yet impersonal. Single evenings of filthy sex with all parties agreeable our time together is temporary.
The future… I glance at her whispering up to my son as he seizes the drink from her hand and sets the glass on the table. The future is going to be her as the center of our world.
Convincing both of them will be a challenge. But I’m up for it. Now that’s my tunnel vision going forward.
I need her too.
I want her too.
I will have her too.
Seraphina
When my brother picked me up from my foster parents’ house—for what I thought would be the last time—I remember the overwhelming sensation of being so ecstatic that I couldn’t rationalize the surreal emotions of relief and anticipation to be living with him and leaving the people who were so cruel to us.
Being with Balthazar and his dad feels the same way. Together, sitting here in this cozy room with the wine and the food and the roaring fire, they give me a sense of home and comfort that makes me unable to stop smiling.
Gaspar probably thinks I’m drunk or nuts or both. He watches me a lot. Every time I glance in his direction, he’s looking at me. With searing green eyes that don’t miss a thing, he seems as if he can see right to my soul.
He looks so much like Balthazar. They’re both big men with broad chests and thick legs, obviously powerful and strong. Although Gaspar’s hair is white rather than black like his son’s, and he has a slight beard while Balthazar keeps clean shaven.
Their personalities are comparable too, confident and commanding. I feel like I’d be unable to saynoto anything they ask of me. Which might be weird, for me to want to please the man who Balthazar says is my future father-in-law, but I can’t deny the truth.
Gaspar just has that dominant vibe that makes me think no one ever questions or denies him. Maybe that’s why I called himDaddywhen I met him.
I don’t think I could be more embarrassed than when the name slipped out. When he said he liked it, peace settled over me with his approval and encouragement. I know I can be a good daughter-in-law for him.
Snuggled in next to Balthazar with Gaspar a few feet across from me, I’m relaxed and content chatting with them about everything and nothing really.
“Miss Snow?”
Hesitation sounds in the housekeeper’s tone, and shame springs inside of me. I jump up, embarrassed from lounging around while she works hard. “Yes, ma’am?”